


White Blare

by TippyTopDays



Category: The Nutcracker (shinyzango)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 11:43:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13189365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TippyTopDays/pseuds/TippyTopDays
Summary: For shinyzango on tumblr. Also I probably should not have done this with a migraine myself.





	White Blare

**Author's Note:**

> For shinyzango on tumblr. Also I probably should not have done this with a migraine myself.

The morning sun seemed too harsh on his eyes as he woke up that morning, the light reaching somewhere in his head and scraping across the back of his skull-well more accurately, the back of his wooden head. None the less, he didn't think much of it, rubbing a large white hand over his eyes blearily and tugging his hat on lower. The brim kept most of the light away from his unusually sensitive eyes yet it didn't do as well with the reflections that still managed to reach him as he coaxed an equally exhausted Clara into eating. Irregardless he did his best to ignore it as he packed up their camp, flinching at the brighter colors that he was sure weren't as blaring before. When she took his hand and spoke to him about where they were going next he refrained from wincing at the unusual loudness of her normally calm voice and did his best to respond naturally. There was no need to worry her over whatever was wrong with him this time.

Carefully, they made their way across the lake's bank. His footsteps seemed oddly heavy and loud as they softly knocked against small pebbles and stones, the small plinks and clatters a screaming cacophony in his head. He did his best to distract himself from the scraping in his hopefully not hollow head by listening to Clara's soft humming, yet even that eventually ground against his ears. Desperate, he flicked his gaze to the lake's benevolent surface, the soft morning breeze casting ripples over it's glassy face. Yet his small mercy was ruined when the sun's rays bounced off of the flickering waters and crashed against his hypersensitive eyes, and he smacked a white gloved hand to his face with a groan.

Small hands clasped his forearm,"Hans? Are you alright."

Carefully he peeked between his fingers, blearily glancing down at her,"I-I'm alright, Clara...." He feigned rubbing his eyes in aggravation and tugged his hat down lower,"Just got some light in my eyes is all."

She frowned up at him before letting the matter go. He heard more than felt her hands falling away from his arm but said nothing, focusing on the dark green grass below his wooden feet. There was no need to worry her.

Her humming returned as they slowly left the lake behind them. Even though he had admitted to himself he enjoyed her nonchalant entertainment, had even once unconsciously joined her, he couldn't stand the nonsensical tune bouncing around in his head. The sound throbbed at the back of his eyes as he fought to keep his jaw unclenched since even the pressure against his teeth dug non existent claws into the base of his head, and he felt himself tense sharply as her voice raised in pitch.

Mercy eventually found him as she stopped singing long enough to speak,"Do you know how long it will be before we reach the next town, Hans?"

Hans' jaw quivered as he refrained from gritting his teeth,"I'm n-not exactly sure." His wooden feet stomped harshly against the ground as he misjudged the flatness of the grass below him. None the less, he tugged his hat down as far as it would go and continued,"It's been a while since I've last been to Tiliant."

She followed diligently behind him,"Well do you remember what it was like in Tiliand?"

A soft chuckle rattled his head further,"Tiliant, and not much really. It's been m-many years since I was there." The grass beneath his wooden shoes slowly evened out, yet the light's reflection off of any remotely bright colored surface remained a never ending torment to his abused eyes. Grimacing he pulled at the brim of his hat but it would go no farther,"I'm-I'm pretty certain my uncle remembers though because he..." His voice trailed off. The scraping was miraculously dying down and fading away, but the sun's light was becoming strangely bright. His eyes flittered about; everything was becoming unnaturally bright, yet it didn't seem to be bothering him at all,"He...would.."

The brightness suddenly snapped into nothing, and it was as if gravity had given up on him. His legs rattled and caved while the horizon spun in circles and a deep, throbbing ache exploded in the back of his head while he stumbled about on shaky legs. The light of the midmorning sun seared through his eyes and scorched the back of his non existent skull. White gloved hands slapped over his face and knocked off his hat, jarring himself further as he groaned in agony. The earth tipped out from under his feet, and he slammed into the grass with a clatter of steel and wood.

"Hans!" He groaned as Clara's worried voice pounded in his ears, instinctively grasping the back of his head and curling into himself. Her knees thudded against the ground as her hands found him once again, clutching at his arm and side,"Hans, what happened? Is something wrong?"

Teeth clenched tightly, he weakly peeked up at her worried face yet could not meet her gaze, flinching away when the light burned his eyes,"M-My head....it hurts...."

"Your head?" One of her hands carefully ruffled the stiff strands of mock hair at the back of his head, stroking the wood in measured touches. Despite his sense of touch being as dull as it was, he could just barely make out the coolness of her fingers. He groaned in mild relief as the throbbing subsided, leaning back into her touch.

"Does it hurt here?"

He winced involuntarily at the loudness of her voice,"Y-Yes...."

She hummed thoughtfully,"My grandmother used to get migraines like this all of the time." Her hand stopped rubbing his hair as she cupped his head in her hands and set him in her lap,"She said that one of the best ways to deal with them was to get proper rest. That or placing something cold on your head but, I'm afraid that we don't have anything cold here so this will have to do."

A soft rouge blossomed across his wooden cheeks, eyes glancing away bashfully,"I-It's okay Clara." Disregarding the desire to keep holding his head he planted a white glove on the grass,"I-I can keep going."

He could practically hear her frown in her voice,"And risk you falling and hurting yourself? No, Hans. You're not moving until your migraine subsides, at least a bit." Her hand returned to the base of his head, stroking at the stiff hair,"I don't want to see you get hurt any more than you already are."

His voice died in his throat, eyes glancing up at her despite the light's horrible glare. The rouge on his cheeks darkened as her hand moved to his temple and rubbed near his painted eye, and despite the throbbing agony in his wooden head, he gave her a small, weak smile,"Thank you Clara..."

She smiled down at him,"You're welcome Hans. Is there anything else you need."

Closing his eyes, he shook his head,"No...I'll be fine." He mumbled, the aching throb slowly drifting off to the back of his mind as he focused on her small hands rubbing his temple. For a few moments, he let himself believe that he could actually feel the softness of her hands. At least a little bit more than before.


End file.
